


Take Me Where I Cannot Stand

by LoadedGunn



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Firefly Verse, Did I mention Harry is Wash and Louis is Zoe, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, HOW PERFECT, Light Bondage, Louis antishipping Narry, M/M, Overstimulation, Space Husbands, Space Pirates, lots of riding, mish-mash of british english amrecian english and firefly-speak, rough and tumble space husbands, space cuffs, space lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 18:01:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1908546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoadedGunn/pseuds/LoadedGunn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry can agree that being husbands in space presents some challenges. Sometimes they have to escape mindless cannibals, sometimes they're being held hostage, sometimes Louis doesn't want Harry to get pregnant, and sometimes someone slips on a banana peel. But that's all part of the fun, isn't it? They could have been juggling <i>geese</i>.</p><p>(Firefly AU where Harry and Louis are co-pilots in life.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me Where I Cannot Stand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Acavall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acavall/gifts).



> Look! A Firefly AU for the lovely Acavall! Your prompts were all so good I almost couldn't choose, but these space husbands couldn't let me go. I really hope you enjoy this week-in-the-life-of thing!
> 
> If you haven't watched Firefly, here's what you need to know:  
> 1) GO WATCH FIREFLY WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU  
> 2) Reavers = space people who went apeshit and became cannibals you do not want boarding your ship.  
> 3) Companion = fancy call girl/boy.  
> 4) There are no aliens and everyone speaks English unless they speak Chinese. Funky!  
> 5) The Alliance are like the evil government that Louis and Perrie fought during the war and lost against.  
> 6) Central planets = NICE WOW SUCH QUALITY OF LIFE. Border planets = okay quality of life, good for space pirates because no one really gives a shit what happens there. Rim planets = awful, terrible places. Nothing like rimjobs.
> 
> THAT'S IT! ENJOY BROWNCOATS!

"Hiii, um, can a decision-making person come to the bridge? Please?"

Louis snaps his eyes up from his cards. Zayn looks back at him coldly. "It's a forfeit if you go," Zayn announces, small smile stretching his red lips.

Louis slams his fists over the tabletop. "You make more than any of us!"

"Could be an emergency. Wouldn't wanna miss out on the action, would you?"

Louis narrows his eyes. Zayn doesn't relent one bit. Next time he asks for a cuddle, Louis will say _no_. "You'll rip me off? Just like that?"

Zayn shrugs. "You're in the business of ripping people off. I'm just trying to fit in."

As if Zayn _could_ fit in, a pricey companion flying with thieving lowlifes. Louis curses. "You're a shithead, is what you are. If you take—"

The ship swerves suddenly, making the bench skid on the floor and Louis' heart to leap to his throat. Harry's voice filters through the intercom again, "Hiiii again, sweetheart, we—"

Perrie's voice cuts him off. "Louis, get here."

Louis gets up with a sigh. "Duty calls. Remind me to never gamble against you again."

Zayn scowls at him from where he's fallen on his arse. "Whatever. Go before the ship crashes."

"It _won't_ , Harry's—"

The ship tilts dangerously again. Louis gets up at once and marches to the stairs, just when Perrie says, "Strap in, folks."

He doesn't know what to expect when he bursts onto the bridge. He definitely couldn't have anticipated seeing another ship, right outside the window. It's still far off, but the proximity alert is chirping annoyingly and Perrie's yelling at Harry in Chinese. Louis turns off the former and stands in front of the latter. "Ma'am, what's going on?"

Harry mutters to himself a barely-heard _ma'am_ , so Louis kicks his chair subtly. Perrie's moved from glaring at Harry to glaring out the window. "We're not sure. They've got a course set, but no active systems."

Louis looks outside. It's more than a blot in the dark this time, and Louis' stomach clenches uncomfortably. "They got nothing to look for this far out."

"Unless they came from further out," Harry points out.

"Oh god." He inches towards Harry instinctively, but doesn't touch him yet, needs to assess things on his own. If it's true. If it's… " _Reavers_."

It's like Perrie only needed his confirmation to come up with a plan. "Cut off everything but life-support."

Louis must've heard wrong. "What? We won't be able to navigate."

"Don't need to. We're holding course. They might not have noticed us."

"They _might_ also be getting their dinner plates ready," Harry points out.

Louis laughs unexpectedly, heart marginally lighter. "I wonder which fork you use on human flesh."

"Probably extra sharp," Harry guesses, peeking at Louis softly for just a second before going back to the scanners. "You know, to use as a weapon."

"Reavers these days. Bet their kitchen is better stocked than ours."

Harry giggles, but Louis detects the nervous edge in it. He lays a hand on Harry's shoulder, and without looking away from the screens Harry clamps his own hand over Louis', holding tight. Louis leans down to touch his nose to the back of Harry's neck, the most comforting touch he can offer while Harry's piloting.

Perrie mutters to herself about _Reaver kitchens_ and _fucking nutters_ , and then grabs the radio and tells the crew what's happening. Louis tunes her out—tunes everything out, really, doesn't even look out the window. He focuses on Harry's silly headband and fights the chill climbing up his spine.

The thing is, Louis' pretty numb to panic. Yeah, he honest-to-god pissed himself the first time he _saw_ a Reaver cruiser in real life, but that was years ago. Reavers are scary motherfuckers, but so is war, so is the Alliance, so is space, and he faces those every damn day. Harry darkens the ship so it feels like they're actually sitting outside in the black, but Louis tracks the bold pattern on Harry's shirt and feels oddly calm. Not in the peaceful sense, but in the primed for battle way he feels when he's ready to get his arse kicked. Harry's hand is still in his.

Seconds go by. Minutes. The distance is getting shorter and shorter, in tandem with Louis' breath.

With the systems down they don't actually hear an alarm, but Louis feels a tug right in his gut that tells him something's wrong wrong _wrong_ , even before Harry says, " _Tai-kong suo-yo duh shing-chiou sai-jin wuh duh pee-goo_ , they're on us."

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck_ , Louis' stomach turns so violently he thinks he's going to hurl right on the helm, but he _can't_. "H, I'm not having dinner with Reavers tonight."

"Of course not, darling," Harry says, high-pitched over the clicks and buzzes of the recharging systems. "I'll just… well, I'll just do the impossible."

"Good lad," Perrie says, throwing herself into the seat by the intercom and strapping in. "Louis, sit down. Got a feeling this is getting exciting."

That makes sense, but—when he braves a glance outside, the battered-looking ship looks closer than he's ever seen one, and—he's not _panicking_ , but he's quite stressed and he just—"Sit next to me, baby," Harry suggests, and Louis immediately leaps to the co-pilot seat.

He hates it here; all it does is remind him that he can't fly for shit. Captain thought it'd be a good idea for him to learn, after Louis _might have_ crashed the mule, but Louis just couldn't get the hang of it. The truth is he fucking hates space, never even thought about going off-world before the Unification War, and even then he was just being carted off wherever the High Command needed him. He definitely didn't have the attention span to master all the buttons and knick-knacks and tech-speak to even get them airborne. That's probably half the reason he married a pilot. (The attempt ended in him snapping at Harry for being so fucking competent, and Harry soothing him by saying, "It's okay, you're my co-pilot in _life_.")

So he'd much rather stay on his feet, if only to preserve some semblance of control of _something_ , and also touch Harry, but the high-speed chase thing starts happening and the ship is thrust into action so fast he feels glued to his seat.

"Niall, wanna dance?" Harry asks, talking through his teeth.

"With you? Always," Niall says over the intercom, probably buried somewhere in the engine room.

Louis rolls his eyes and turns his head to tell Harry off, but then he kind of loses track of his venomous thoughts about Harry's co-dependent relationship with Niall. He also completely misses the plan they're hatching together to save all their lives with some fancy aerobatics, because—Harry looks damn _serious_. His big green eyes are narrowed in determination and he's sucking his bottom lip into his mouth and his big strong hands are wrapped around the centre stick and the throttle controls, pushing and pulling so steadily his muscles are bulging in effort. He only gets like that when they're facing certain death, or when he's fucking Louis. Looking at him adequately distracts Louis from the certain death nonsense.

(Some people laugh in the face of danger. Some reflect on their miserable lives. Louis' mind goes straight to the gutter. Thank fuck for his defence mechanism, or he probably wouldn't have chosen a career path where he still gets shot at on a weekly basis, nor would he have met the love of his life.)

Things always happen so fast when Harry does his thing—Louis finds himself just waiting for it to end. There's nothing else to do but load his gun or shit himself in fear, and he left the gun next to Perrie and Zayn won his dinner. He knows they're stretching One Direction to her full capacity; the whole ship is rocking like they're caught in a meteor shower, or getting shredded by a skiff. All Louis sees is Harry's body bouncing and tensing. There are half-human space cannibals hot on their trail and all Louis can think about is riding Harry into the pilot seat.

"Hold on," Harry says calmly, which provides no warning for when the ship is catapulted in the opposite direction and Louis bangs his head on the seat and he's only _more_ turned on, what's _wrong_ with him. The bridge is dead silent for half a minute, and then Louis hears a loud explosion and thinks _this is it we're humped Perrie will have to shoot Harry and I at the same time fuck fuck fucking space_ , but then he hears… singing. " _Baby, you don't have to worry, I'll be coming back for you, back for you_."

Oh god. Harry only sings when they're mildly less likely to die. Louis peeks at the rear view screen and sees the pretty orange remnants of an explosion, which definitely didn't happen on their ship. He connects the dots: they must have been hurtling towards something, then shot off in the opposite direction with fancy aerobatics, and let the Reaver ship crash into it instead.

Louis swallows, spit and bile and _stress_ all going away at once because of his competent, perfect, _silly_ husband who looks straight at him, face covered in sweat, and sings, " _Lately, I've been going crazy, so I'm coming back for you, back for you..._ "

Louis opens his mouth to say something profound, but all that comes out is, " _I've never been so into somebody before, and every time we both touch I only want more._ "

Harry beams, all accomplished and _sweaty,_ and picks up Louis' verse, " _So tell me nothing's gonna change yeah, and you won't ever walk away yeah, 'cause even though every night you'll know what I'll say_ —"

" _Goodbye_ ," Perrie finishes with a shockingly high note, and stands up. She usually doesn't have patience for their "soulmate braintwin singing bullshit", but she seems to be pretty fucking happy about not being dead. Good thing she has the best (and tallest and sexiest and most fluffy-haired) pilot in the fucking universe. To the intercom, she says, "Looks like we're out of the woods for now! Good job, people."

The rest of the crew cheers and hoots, while the three of them just grin at each other, breathing more heavily. Or maybe it's just Louis. He can feel the adrenaline buzzing in his fucking ears. "Set course for the rendezvous point. With any luck, the Reavers already hit Max and the goods will just be waiting for us without having to get shot again."

Louis snorts. He wants to say something snappy about how Max _shiong mao niao_ George better not fucking try to shoot Louis again, but he ends up saying, "Will do, Captain. Are you staying to watch me devour this man?"

Harry smiles even wider, if that's possible. He sets the course and then turns his chair to Louis slowly. Louis doesn't even wait to make sure Perrie's left the bridge before he pounces on Harry, pinning him to the seat with his weight and kissing him within an inch of his life. Harry's had five years worth of experience with Louis' danger-induced horniness, but even though he doesn't exactly share it, he kisses back just as passionately, big, big hands skimming the length of Louis' back like he wants to press them even closer together.

Louis leans on him completely, until his knees are wedged into the backrest, their chests are pressed together, and their hips align. He still feels all out of it, more focused on feeling Harry's soft lips against his own than moving his hips smoothly. He doesn't feel smooth. He feels desperate and jagged and hot and Harry just expertly manoeuvred a 585,000 pound hunk of metal through space while _singing_ but for Louis, he's melting into the seat and whispering, "Want you so much."

Louis hums happily, tingles running down his spine wherever Harry's touching him. He brings one hand up to Harry's hair and _tugs_ , kissing away his gasp and licking into his mouth. He can't get enough. Harry's sweet and needy and lovely and _so_ soft, moving against him like he's had five years to practice how Louis likes being kissed breathless, because he _had_. With his free hand, Louis unbuttons the three buttons Harry bothered to do up this morning, and just presses his hand down right over his heart, admiring how it's mirroring his own mad beat. "Do you like the danger, babe?" he asks against Harry's wet lips, barely resisting dropping more kisses on them. He grinds against him instead. "The rush?"

Harry makes a pathetic noise and his flitting hands finally land on Louis' hips, his fingers digging in like he's going to rip his trousers right off him, and Louis _wants_ him to. "Like what it does to _you_ ," Harry says between kisses. "Like keeping you safe."

Louis can't help but smile, kissing Harry a bit more delicately than he did before. "Sappy boy," he reprimands. If his dick weren't so hard, he'd probably get all heart-achy from feeling Harry smile under his lips. Sappily.

"Happy boy," he replies. Suddenly one of his hands slips from Louis' hip to his arse, so his fingers are digging right in through the inordinately tight pants. Louis doesn't even need to think before he rocks back, moaning a little when Harry catches his drift and rubs his fingertips right along Louis' crack.

"Horny boy," Louis corrects, nosing from Harry's cheekbone down the column of his throat. Harry smells so good, sweaty and more familiar than anything. He jumps when Louis latches onto his favourite spot, pushing up when Louis sinks his teeth down. His pulse is pounding under Louis' tongue, _because_ of Louis' tongue. Louis thinks he feels it in his fingertips. He's getting a damn headrush. "Gonna ride you. How's that sound?"

" _Yeah_ ," Harry breathes, stretching his neck for Louis. Usually he kicks up a bit of a fuss when Louis wants to fuck on the bridge, but now he's well into it, already hooking his fingers under Louis' belt. _Yeah_.

It takes Louis long minutes to even consider detaching from Harry, but at some point rutting against him starts being more a frustration than a relief, especially with Harry's fingers so close to where he needs them. He hops off from his lap and whips out his holster and belt in a practiced move, keeping his eyes glued to Harry's slumped form.

When he's naked save for his boots, he nearly stumbles on thin air. It's like he's physically drawn back to Harry, can't even breathe when they're not touching, but force of habit makes him turn around to the helm and look for their secret nook, under the piles of toy birds and kitties, coming up with— _yes_ , some slick. When he turns back to Harry, his husband's two steps ahead, got his pants unzipped and his hand stroking his cock. Louis wants to tell him off for starting without him, he really does, but it's like he's being hypnotised by his dick, big and hard and pink. It's been a dry few weeks, and Louis can't for the life of him remember why.

He chucks the tube at Harry, but of course he doesn't catch it and it ends up hitting his dick directly. Harry huffs in pain and just pumps himself faster, making Louis laugh. He grabs Harry's hands and forcefully takes them off his cock, pinning one to the seat and placing the tube in the other. Once Harry gets a handle on things, Louis climbs back on top of him and pins him to the backrest.

When their bare skins touch he can't help but throw his head back, groaning. Harry's stiff and hot against him, with just his cock out, so Louis' rubbing his bare arse against the rough fabric of his trousers. He takes Harry's hands again and moves them behind him, so eager to feel them he ends up slapping them against his own arse. "Fuck, baby," Harry moans, squeezing Louis' arse and tugging him so close there isn't an inch of space between them. "Feels so good."

Louis feels feverish, so hard he's dripping, sliding messily against Harry. He's embarrassingly close already—Harry has that annoying effect on him even without the thrilling near-death experience. "Fuck me open, come _on_."

Harry barely gets out a breathy _yeah, fuck_ before Louis feels a wet fingertip probing at his hole. He slumps forward while moving his hips back, faster than he intended, so he's fucking back on Harry's whole finger and burying tiny moans in Harry's neck. It stings a bit, but it's good, welcome as always. Louis doesn't have to whine that much before Harry gets the picture and pulls his finger almost all of the way out, and then thrusts it back in. He definitely gets the picture then, when Louis shivers and tightens his grip on Harry's hair, circling his hips until Harry's fucking him _right_.

When they're up to three fingers, Harry has a collar of bruises gracing his neck and Louis' body aches with how much he wants Harry's cock, how much he wants to _come_. Harry's just working his spot relentlessly, because his fingers are huge and there's nowhere else for them to go and he's also _evil_. If Louis had any air left in his lungs he'd tell him—yell at him to move along—but just when he thinks he can open his mouth, Harry presses down hard with one finger at a time and Louis can only whimper and claw at his back.

They snap when Harry fucks into him so deep Louis feels the metal of his wedding band digging into his skin. It's such a sharp contrast to his soft skin that Louis bucks in his lap and grinds hard against his cock. Harry freezes, stiff and _deep_ in him, but Louis keeps rutting against him and biting and feeling Harry spurt precome on _Louis'_ cock. It's the only thing that saves him from Harry playing with his prostate until he comes, or like, explodes.

When it's Harry's cock, they go slow. Louis lifts himself up and sinks down leisurely, gritting his teeth as inch after inch of Harry's thick length splits him open. After being fingered so thoroughly, _Harry_ needs more time to adjust than him. After being tortured so expertly, Louis isn't inclined to give it to him. He can't bear to sit still when Harry's finally in all the way, ends up moving almost immediately, up and up and then slamming down and crying out from the friction.

Harry's just cursing and grappling him, looking at Louis like he's seeing a sunset off-world for the first time, and Louis _feels_ like a sun, feels hot and fit to burst and radiating with pleasure. His whole body's thrumming, shaking thighs and shakier hands. Usually they have finesse. They know all the ways to draw this out, drive each other mad, climb higher and higher. Right now Louis just wants to fuck Harry wild.

He sets a quick pace for himself, bouncing on Harry's cock like his life defends on it. He still feels clumsy and tangled up in Harry from how impossibly close they are, how Harry's arms are wrapped around him, how his face is planted in Louis' chest. He loves it, though, loves feeling Harry all over him when he's riding him or when Harry's fucking him from behind. As if they needed to feel more connected. "Love you," he says, or wants to say, as all he can hear is his own choked-off moans and raging pulse.

Harry growls and grabs his arse, starts helping him along more roughly than Louis' anticipated. The fact he's gripping there instead of his hipbones makes a startling difference—Louis feels it like bullets when Harry's nails dig into his soft flesh, and he's pressing his cheeks together, so that on the upstroke they get to feel more of each other. Harry fucks him inside and out.

Louis arches his back in an attempt to get them closer together, but it raises his hips and makes Harry try to chase him, finally thrusting up and—" _Yeah_ , fuck, like that— _oh_ , Harry, like that—"

It's a good thing they've got so much practice. Louis feels like he's drowning in how spectacular this feels, but his body still knows how to move with Harry's, drag up when Harry withdraws and bear down when Harry pounds him, brutal on his spot and his sanity. "Like this?" Harry asks, voice all raspy and lovely, right on a good thrust up.

"Fuck, just— _fuck_ , shut up," Louis gasps, moving his own hips in circles while Harry keeps up the steady ramming, so he nudges his prostate in bursts that push and push and _Christ_ he's close. "Gonna come," he warns.

Harry sounds pleased and wrecked all at once, lets go of Louis' ass to reach for his cock, but Louis hisses and yanks his hands right back. He doesn't even need the extra tug, wants to come just from Harry's big cock nailing him and big hands playing with his arse and big mouth latching on his neck because he's too overwhelmed to watch him like this, riding him hard and close and _fuck_.

It happens between one breath and the next, and Louis crashes down on Harry, coming so hard he's seeing spots and virtually misses it when Harry comes too. His hips keep stuttering, pushing even more come out of Louis, until finally they both settle down. He's still panting into Harry's neck, shivering violently when Harry's hand drifts over his arse and pushes gently between his cheeks, fluttering where they're still connected. " _Babe_ ," Louis bites out.

" _Louis_ ," Harry shoots back, his voice annoyingly deep on _purpose_. "That was lovely."

Louis hums in agreement, snuggling into Harry for just a few more minutes. After the shock of fear and adrenaline to his systems before, he's exhausted now, pleasantly achy and cuddly. Harry's soft words don't really help, variations of _love you so much_ and _finding your bum was worth every space chase I've ever nearly died in._

"Darling," Louis coos, rolling his eyes. "Think you can let go of my arse now?"

"What's in it for me?" Harry asks, only tightening his hold.

"My eternal gratitude," Louis decides dramatically. Harry's soft now, but he's still big and still _inside_ and still hisses sharply when Louis rocks his hips. "Fuck off now, I wanna get off and get clean and get some sleep."

Harry whines pathetically and sticks his nose under Louis' ear. "I want a kiss, please."

Louis indulges him. Just once. And then another. And then one mind-numbing enough that Harry's hands leave him naturally, so Louis can finally lift his hips up. He grabs a rag to clean up fast, not even because he doesn't want to get Harry's trousers dirty, but because if he stays wet Harry will end up playing with his arse again. He's very single-minded when it comes to ships and to Louis.

Getting Harry out of the chair is even harder than pulling his tight trousers over his boots and shaky legs, but they manage. Louis makes Harry carry him all the way to their cabin, mostly by hopping on Harry's back and biting his ear.

Harry hugs him extra tight when they turn in for the night. "That was scary," he confesses into Louis' chest.

"A bit," Louis whispers, carding through Harry's damp hair. "But you saved us all, didn't you?"

"Mm-hm. Lived to fuck another day."

Louis snorts. "That's the spirit. I'm your motivation, then?"

" _My life, my voice, my reason to be,_ " Harry sings automatically.

(Three months ago they picked up an entire boy band. Everyone is still suffering the consequences.)

"Go to sleep, love. I'm sure something even scarier will happen tomorrow."

*

"I don't even know if I should blame you or myself. I mean, I had to have known something would go wrong sooner or later, right?"

Louis nods along, only half-listening to the lecture. It's not the first he's heard, and there are a lot of distractions. For one, intense pain, and for another, intensely pretending he's not in pain so Harry doesn't worry even more. (Of course Max George shot him. That part he could conceal, since he was wearing a vest, but rolling away on the gravel left him with cuts and bruises that Harry spotted right away. With a pinched expression, Harry picked Louis up and set him down carefully in the pilot chair, then sat in his lap and started putting colourful plasters all over him. Another distraction.)

"I just don't understand how you can follow her blindly like that. She does so many problematic things. Not to _mention_ rely on _Liam_ for backup."

Louis snorts. There's no love lost between Harry and Liam, especially after the incident last year where Harry flew the mule too close to the ground (because they were being chased by a ship, mind you) and dropped some of the cargo, balls of condensed foodstuffs, which led to Liam screaming at him to pick his balls off the floor, which led to Harry locking him out of One Direction until he apologised. Not even a solo trip to the mountainside of Demeter could create a bond between them.

Louis just sighs. "That's because you're not a soldier, love."

Harry frowns hard and says, "Neither are you."

Louis rolls his eyes. This will be the hundred and tenth time they have this argument, and it doesn't end in anything but them being pissed off at each other. "Harry—"

"You're _not_ , you haven't been for years. You're a husband, my husband-man, and if you keep putting fucking everything on the line every time you step off this gorramn ship how will I bear your child?"

Maybe not. "How will you _what_?" he asks, momentarily forgetting the next line in the script ( _I have to do it because it's my job, and I never put you on the line_ ).

Harry shakes his head like he wants to keep arguing, so Louis knocks his huge hands away from his own face and clasps Harry's wrists together. The plasters drop to his lap, but it doesn't matter, they were only doing Harry any good. Louis will just go to the infirmary later and beg Jesy for a shot and he'll be good as new. It's Harry that needs to process. "What did you say?"

Harry looks down, kind of embarrassed. "Well, um. While you were off getting injured, I found someone I've been looking for since we started hitting respectable type of planets."

Louis can't think of a single respectable person who wouldn't want to arrest Harry. Or worse, keep him. (Louis doesn't have a lot of experience with respectable people. Criminals might be smarmy fuckers, but at least they're straight-forward.) "Go on."

"His name is Sir Robert Winston, and he can get men pregnant."

That's. Well. Louis has been in some fucked up situations, heard some fucked up things and shared booze with some fucked up people. But that might have been the most bizarre thing he's ever heard. He laughs so hard he's wheezing painfully and Harry's twisting his nipple. "Hear me out, okay, you just have to go through—"

"Harold, absolutely not."

All the humour drains from Harry's face and he blinks at Louis with huge eyes. "You don't..."

Louis takes Harry's hands and flutters over his rings, leaning in to smile at him. "We can't have someone pregnant on board, okay, Jesy is too busy with bullet holes to do prenatal check-ups. There are a million safer ways to get a baby, yeah? We're _thieves_."

"We're not gonna steal a baby, Lewis," Harry huffs, like that's any more absurd than Harry flying a ship while pregnant. "We'll go to a lab like normal people and make one with our DNA."

"Yeah, or four," Louis corrects, just to see Harry's pout disappear and eyes light up.

"Yeah? You want that?"

Louis rolls his eyes. "Of course I do, I wanna raise ten space babies with you." Harry's still looking at him with shiny eyes. It's Louis' turn to look down awkwardly. "This isn't... this isn't _our life_ , y'know? It's a shitty, dangerous life, and I do my job because it's the only thing I know how to do, and it's _fun,_ but also because I'm waiting for the big one."

"What's that?" he asks, poking Louis' ribs. Ouch.

"You know, the one that'll have us balls-deep in riches."

"And then?" Harry sounds so delighted Louis has to look at his face. He's _glowing_.

"And then we'll buy our own ship." Obviously.

Harry wasn't expecting that. "Really? You'd, um. Leave One Direction?"

 _Fuck's sake_. "Harry Tomlinson, I married _you_ , definitely not the captain. I fully intend to get a tiny ship and go on our own adventures before I get a bullet in me." He pauses. "Or, like, three bullets. Five tops."

Harry laughs but it sounds suspiciously choked up. "You're not just saying that because Jesy's shot fucked you up in the head?"

Louis rolls his eyes, feels pleasant heat spread in his chest. "No, I didn't go to the infirmary yet. Wanted to see you first."

It's not entirely unexpected when Harry leans in to kiss him, but the sheer mass of _emotion_ he's trying to shove down Louis' throat is a bit overwhelming. Harry kisses him hard and sloppy, he can't even stop himself from smiling. Louis can't breathe, both because of Harry's efforts and because of his aching ribs. "You're so dumb, fuck," Harry whispers, nibbling on Louis' chin. "I love you so much this ship could crash and I wouldn't even care."

"Please don't crash the ship," Louis tries to reason, his arms automatically wrapping around Harry's waist.

Harry shakes his head, curls tickling the side of Louis' face. "Can we keep Niall on our tiny ship?"

Louis tries not to grumble. Of course they'll keep Niall. _Louis_ loves Niall, he just doesn't necessarily love that Harry's the one who brought it up. "Okay, but that means one less child. Two even, considering how much that boy eats."

Harry whines and hides his face in Louis' shoulder. "You'll be such a good dad."

"Not as good as you," Louis whispers quietly. It's not like they've never talked about it before; Harry's been obsessed with babies since even before they got married. They both wanted a big family, and sort of found one, on this ship, but it's not the same. Despite Perrie's bratty streak and Niall's messy eating habits. They still have a long time before they can be dads, but it's a nice thought for moments like these, Harry clinging to him and Louis all gooey inside.

" _Hardly_. You'll be their favourite daddy."

Louis huffs and kisses the side of Harry's neck. "We're gonna have ten, right? I'm sure one or two will like you more."

He's got this feeling that Harry's not listening to him anymore, which is a nice closure to this conversation. An even nicer note is the fact Harry's started to rock his hips against him, extremely subtly. Louis gasps, already breathless from having his ribs crushed by gravel.

He could probably go to the infirmary a bit later than intended.

* * *

Harry loves days like these. The cargo bay is full, their destination is a nice border planet, and everyone is happy after a job well done. No one even got  _shot_ . "Don't you just love when we smuggle food?" Niall asks, spraying him with apricot bits.

Harry almost drops the apples he's been juggling, and knocks their shoulders together. "It's fucked, mate. Rich people sending us to poor rim planets to steal food from struggling agricultural societies so they can sell produce at a high price to slightly less poor people."

Niall gives him a blank look for a moment. And then smiles his normal cheery smile and takes a huge bite. "If morality tasted half as good as this apricot, I'd cut ties and fly off with Zayn first chance I get."

Fair enough. He gives Niall a one-armed hug, and cackles along with him as he throws the core over the railing to the lower deck, hitting Liam square on the head. It gives Louis a chance to steal the football from between Liam's legs and run to the opposite goal post. "Go baby!" Harry cheers when Louis scores a goal and takes off his tank top.

Another good thing about quiet days: the whole crew spreads out in the lower deck and plays no-rules footie, while Harry's allowed to sit on the upper level, dangle his legs from the railing, munch on bounty and watch his husband run around athletically. Harry _loves_ days like these.

Louis blows him a kiss Harry pretends to catch and put in his pocket, and then Louis throws his tank top up with alarming accuracy, so Harry actually catches it. Since Harry isn't wearing a top, it's only natural to just put Louis' sweaty vest on himself. Niall looks vaguely disgusted, but not enough to stop inhaling apricots. "I'm so jealous of you, man," he comments.

There might have been a prelude to that, but Harry was wholly focused on Louis doing shirtless squats. It took him _weeks_ to convince Louis to marry him, and he remembers that one of his excuses were that "the sex won't be the same". _Please_. He still has to actively restrain himself from drooling over Louis' muscular arms.

He blinks at Niall, realising he's being rude. "Jealous? Really? Got eyes on my boy?"

Niall rolls his eyes. "Not _you_ —I mean, don't get me wrong, Lou's absolutely brilliant and fucks like a _yě shòu_ by the sound of it—but I meant… both of you. What you have."

Harry turns to him fully and grins. "We're quite alright, aren't we?"

He might be feeling extra loved-up after the conversation he and Louis had about their Future yesterday. It wasn't exactly shocking; he always wanted a big family, and he knew from the first date that Louis did as well, even as young as they were when they got married. They're still pretty young, and pretty far from settling down, but it was endlessly comforting to hear Louis say the words.

(To the point that Harry felt the need to reassure him that their life _isn't_ shitty, that he loves spending every day getting into trouble and mortal danger with Louis, but then he got distracted. It's still vaguely bothering him.)

"Yeah, like best couple in the 'verse," Niall says with an eye-roll, cutting off Harry's thoughts.

Harry preens. "You wanna settle down, Nialler?"

Niall hums and shrugs. "Not like, with a person, I don't think. Not yet, anyway. I think I just want that—comfort you have. Knowing that you're never on your own."

Harry's known Niall for long enough to know he's not always sunshine and rainbows, but it's still odd to be exposed to his vulnerability. He's the most loyal person on this ship, and definitely the most deserving of… everything. Niall's a fucking gem. "Ni, you were never on your own. And when the band breaks up, you could always be our ship captain."

Niall laughs so hard he nearly drops his apricot. "On what, the HMS Tomlinsons?"

"Yeah, you fucker." Of course he already told Niall about their chat regarding ten kids and a ship. "It's not like Louis could even find an engine room, and I'm…"

"A walking fire hazard?" Niall completes with a smirk.

Harry narrows his eyes. "Someone who might not offer you captaincy again."

"Yeah right. Thanks though, bro. I love you."

He smiles happily and hugs Niall again, only to be interrupted by a _boot_ flying their way, missing Niall's head by an inch. On top of their surprised squawk, there's a huge ruckus downstairs. It only takes a moment to understand that a one-booted Louis is crowing in victory and Liam is yelling at him that he cheated.

They're just cursing at each other with the girls joining the fray, so Harry allows himself to lose focus and go back to chatting with Niall. "I think you could actually be valuable, you know," Harry points out. "The plan is to open one of those space-travelling bed and breakfasts, yeah? I can pilot and you can cook."

Niall laughs. "That's wise, since I'm a much better cook than you."

" _Excuse me_?" Harry hisses, deeply wounded. "I cook 85 percent of the time here!"

"Yeah, because I'm so good I only offer my services in special events," Niall insists.

Harry throws an apple right at him. Niall eats it right in front of his face. Someone suggests they take it to the engine room, so they do, giggling and discussing what Louis might do in a flying B&B (raise the kids, obviously). He's so engrossed in it that when they find themselves locked in the engine room, he's not really bothered. He doesn't realise until far too late that it was a calculated attack—Liam misplacing Harry to fuck with Louis.

It happens, like. It's a surprisingly effective way to annoy Louis when he's being too much of a menace onboard. It usually ends in pain, but Harry himself remains unscathed. It's not his fault that he's trusting and kind. This time, though, involving Niall in it has a very different effect on Louis.

Leading to Harry being handcuffed to their bed and fucked within an inch of his life.

" _God_ , fuck," he moans, choked-off breaths filling the spaces between every syllable. Louis' _relentless_ , has a bruising grip on his thighs since he hoisted Harry's legs up over his shoulders. Harry's whole body feels achy and tight, where Louis' cock lays into him over and over, where he's folded over whichever way Louis wants, where his hands are trapped over his head in the cuffs Louis nicked the last time they were detained.

"There you go," Louis whispers gently, breathless enough that Harry opens his eyes. He's as beautiful as he always is between Harry's legs, but now, _now_ he looks at Harry so darkly it feels dangerous. His messy fringe is plastered to his face with sweat, almost covering his piercing eyes. His sharp jaw is set in a determined line, and his _lips_ , swollen from kissing, and Harry thinks about all the new marks decorating his neck thanks to them and he spurts even more precome over his stomach.

Louis notices, somehow, pauses for half a second to smirk at Harry wolfishly, and then he starts fucking him even faster and Harry _whines_. Louis' hips are smacking against his arse and his own knees hit his shoulders and his legs thump on Louis' sweaty back and pleasure is twisting up in him like a fucking bomb about to go off but he can't—can't do anything about it—fuck, if he moves his hands even accidentally the cuffs send tiny electric shocks down his arms and that only makes it better. The only thing he can do is whimper and grunt and try to keep his eyes open.

It's far from the first time Louis took him like this, but it's always always always admirable—the way he nails him just right and moves against him like he was born for this. Harry didn't join the crew to get fucked by the most badass ex-soldier tight-pants-wearing sex god, but fuck if it didn't work out in his favour.

He's so caught up in watching Louis work over him that he doesn't really feel him slow down, until he just stops. _This_ is the real torture, feeling Louis so deep in him, still snug against his spot, still sweating and strong and close, but not getting friction. " _Lou_ ," he breathes, then quickly bites his lip to keep desperate sounds from escaping.

"Yeah?" Louis asks, casual as anything, like he doesn't have Harry folded in half and clenching around his cock. At Harry's pathetic _nngh_ , Louis gives him one perfect, hard thrust that shoves their bunk against the wall, along with a little bit of Harry's mind. Another pause. If Harry weren't cuffed, he'd probably strangle Louis. Or, like. Paw at him weakly.

" _Please_ , babe," he begs. It wouldn't be so bad if he could move his own hips, if he could _give_ , but he can't move anything, pinned down by Louis' weight and resolve. He can only take.

And Louis doesn't make it easy. "Please what?"

Harry could scream. "Make me _come_ , please, _please_ , Lou—"

" _Oh_ , why didn't you just say so?" Louis says, but instead of ramming into him again Louis slips out of him entirely. Harry has to squeeze his eyes shut and shove his face into the pillow, empty and frustrated and hard. He barely feels it when Louis gets on his knees and lowers Harry's legs from his shoulders to his waist. His muscles are throbbing but it's good, everything is good, an extension of how turned on and close he is.

He's only more confused when Louis leans over to their cabinet and pulls out a tube, even though they have a half-full one already out by Harry's hip. He tries to wriggle a bit, get Louis' attention back, but all he gets is a stern look and a zap around his wrists. "I got you something special," Louis finally explains, popping open the lid and spilling some—what looks like lube on his fingers. Harry's skin prickles with need—why isn't Louis _in_ already? "Do you want it?"

"Yes, fuck, come on," Harry says before Louis even closes his mouth. Maybe it's flavoured or something, he doesn't know what 'special lube' means, but he knows what he wants.

Louis gives him a small smile, more threatening than kind, and then wraps his hand around Harry's cock. He's hard enough that Louis' little hand barely covers half of it, but after just one pump he stops, and Harry's legs kick out uncontrollably because if he doesn't get any soon he'll surely combust.

And then something happens.

It's. "What the— _oh god_ —" There are tingles, but it's not from arousal, it's _physically_ on his cock, and with every breath it gets hotter and Louis' not even touching him but it feels like he's giving him fast pulls and he's squirming and he can't breathe—"Holy _fuck_ what is that?"

"Bought it while waiting for the goods," Louis says, remarkably steady while Harry feels like he's losing his mind.

He doesn't know what's more shocking, this brand new sensation or what Louis just said. " _Bought?"_

"Anything for my baby." Louis smiles and actually gives him a chaste kiss.

 _Fuck_ that. "Fucking fuck me then," Harry grunts, completely losing focus on Louis when the lube feels like it's, _fuck_ , like it's tightening around him, creating friction around his achingly hard cock while Louis just _watches_.

Harry crosses his ankles behind him, trying to pull him closer, but Louis just slaps his thigh and says, "Good boys ask nicely."

God, how is Harry supposed to function when Louis says things like that and puts space lube on his dick and leaves him half-fucked? " _Please_."

Louis kisses his nose, shocking as the last time, and then shoves three lube-slicked fingers inside him. Harry _keens_ , arching his back deeply and kicking out because it works even faster this time, these _tingles_ flooding him from inside, hot and hotter and—" _There_ ," he cries out, as if Louis didn't know. Just as soon as a chant of _yes_ 's tumbles from his bitten-raw lips, Louis draws his fingers out. It almost hurts, feeling empty but still strangely stimulated, feeling Louis here but not enough.

"Incredible, don't you think?" Louis asks, crouching over him but not touching, but Harry's _still_ being touched, god. "It's got these friendly nanobots that skim the surface and create friction. Makes it hot, doesn't it?"

Harry can barely whimper in response, feverish and shivering and helpless. Louis ducks down to kiss his neck again, attaching his lips to his thumping pulse. It's too much, his soft lips and whatever-the-fuck's working his cock and his hole. "Frees up my hands," Louis adds, and suddenly he's twisting both of Harry's nipples and Harry's _coming_ , finally, just like that, hot and fast and amazing.

When he's mildly recovered, he notes that Louis has a tight grip on his hands. Cool, he didn't get electrocuted. A much more horrifying discovery is that he can still feel the lube on him, fizzing and tightening and even hotter when it's mixed with his come. It's painful now, he's way too sensitive, can't even describe it. Not to mention it's on his nipples now too, gentle like feathers teasing him but completely impossible to ignore. Even if he could get used to that, there's the lube _inside_ him. He buries his face in his own bicep and keeps whimpering, his arse clenching involuntarily. Louis moves to touch his hair gently, and Harry just… "Lou," he mumbles, barely understandable to his own ears. "Hurts a little."

"Baby," Louis says right in his ear, so much fondness in his voice Harry feels it wrap around his heart. "You're still hard."

He knows, god, he's squirming, he _can't_ get soft. "It's still… fuck."

Louis groans like he understands, sinking his teeth into Harry's earlobe. "They only stop when you wash it off with water and soap," Louis explains, as if anything could make sense right now. Harry's jumped right over the edge, feels utterly wrecked, but when Louis asks, "Still good, though?" he has to nod.

Of course it's still good. It's Louis. "Keep fucking me, keep going," he mutters, spreading his thighs around Louis. His voice sounds destroyed. He feels destroyed.

So Louis makes it worse by straddling his lap and going right for his cock. Harry gasps and instinctively pumps his hips, even while saying, "Babe, you didn't…"

"Of course I did," Louis huffs, fixing his fringe in that annoyingly sexy way of his. "Did you think I didn't experiment with the lube before I put it on you?"

That's definitely enough to get him rock-hard again. Pleased with his handful, Louis stretches his muscular thighs and positions Harry's cock at his entrance. Even now, with Harry miserably overstimulated, he teases, rubs the head of Harry's cock against his evidently stretched hole. Harry wants to wrap his hands around his waist, wants to raise his own hips, wants to touch Louis' gorgeous form so badly, but he just can't.

When Louis finally sinks down on him, it's relief and torture and pleasure, so overwhelming it catches in his throat. He doesn't need fancy lube, or fancy handcuffs, or a bed, or anything, really, as long as he can see Louis close his eyes in bliss from his cock inside him, as long as he can feel Louis clenching tight around him.

Louis doesn't waste a second, just as turned on as Harry but without the privilege of coming just a few minutes ago. He's riding him right into the bed, knees planted in the mattress and hands planted on Harry's chest. His head is thrown back so, so prettily, and his cock is curved up, so hard it's dark red and dripping and still untouched. It doesn't look like Louis used _the_ lube—that's still wreaking havoc on Harry's senses—on his own prick, he must be striving to come just from taking cock.

Even if he weren't pinned down he's too exhausted to thrust up, but Louis doesn't need the help anyway.  Louis' been sitting on his dick for five years. He knows how to get what he needs. Going by the way he's scratching Harry's chest carelessly, twisting his sore nipples again, he's definitely on the right track. His lovely thighs take him the rest of the way, as he goes from bouncing eagerly to grinding extremely slow, hand pushed down on his own tummy and high-pitched moans falling from his pink lips. "Fuck, Harry, _Harry_."

It's mingling with his own desperate sounds, and somewhere between "so fucking good" and "I love you so much" they come at the same time, breathless and giddy and achy and _perfect_.

He rides the high for what feels like hours, but is actually just the time it takes for Louis to climb off him and soak a flannel in water. He scrubs Harry down thoroughly, getting sweat and come and space lube, until Harry feels clean and fresh and pampered. He doesn't feel fully spoiled until the moment Louis collapses on top of him and burrows into his chest, kissing along his collarbones and sighing happily.

Harry wraps his arms tight around him, completely boneless and content.

And then Perrie starts talking. " _Well, now that Harry and Louis stopped rocking the ship, I suggest we all get a good night's sleep since we'll touch down in six hours_ ," her voice crackles from the intercom, causing Harry to experience a mini-heart attack and a crippling blush. What the _fuck_.

" _Also, Harry, it's been five years, do you even understand how comms work?_ "

Harry quickly looks over to their radio, where, of course, his boot is balanced right on the On button. Broadcasting their activities to the whole ship. _Great_.

Expertly, Louis throws a bottle that upends the boot and hopefully disconnects them. Harry lets out a four-minute long groan and rearranges himself around Louis. "In six hours we're taking the shuttle."

"Are we?" Louis asks, tone amused but voice sleepy-slow and addictive.

"Yup," Harry says resolutely. "We're going on _holiday_ where no one gives us shit and nothing goes wrong."

* * *

The Holiday Where Everything Goes Wrong:

When Harry decided they were going on holiday, Louis thought it would be nice and relaxing. They'd use Zayn's reputation to get into a rich people spa and have an actual bath and enjoy what this planet has to offer. And then Harry says they need to steal a catalyser.

"But _why_?" Louis asks, thoroughly confused. He's already wearing his swimming trunks. He's already mentally prepared to see Harry wearing his swimming trunks.

"Do you know what would happen if our catalyser breaks down? We'll be out of gas! In space!" Harry exclaims, like that explains anything.

Louis crosses his arms. "Why _now_ , I mean?"

Harry looks away, biting his lip. "Niall asked for a present when I told him we were going on holiday."

That's… bullshit. Well, it's entirely possible, but it still doesn't explain why Harry's so eager to go on a job when it's just the two of them. He wants to get a real explanation, but seeing as it _is_ just the two of them, getting into a fight would be a nightmare. "Okay."

Harry lights up all at once, like he didn't actually expect Louis to roll with it. "Really?"

Louis snorts and ruffles Harry's hair affectionately. "Sure. But you realise we won't have backup, yeah? The crew is on the dodgy side of the planet."

"I'm your backup. You're my backup." He points to his wedding ring and sticks out his chin, making Louis laugh. Maybe this will be fun.

"Do you have an actual plan?"

"Well." Harry clears his throat, and then suddenly his arms are wrapped around Louis' waist and they're pressed together. "I think we should have sex. Like, for good luck."

How's anyone supposed to say no to that? They haven't even left the shuttle and Louis' getting lucky. He loves married life. "And then?"

"Then… a nap, obviously. We _are_ on holiday."

Louis nods into Harry's neck, his hands snaking around Harry's hips. "Of course. After that?"

Harry starts nibbling on his ear. "After that I thought you'd come up with a plan. I'm new at this thieving business, y'know? I'm just the pilot."

Louis snorts. "Okay, baby, we'll figure something out."

Harry smiles, and then sucks him off. The adventure starts off well enough.

*

The thing about dealing with unsavoury types of people is that you can't really trust anyone. Louis learned that the hard, horrible, traumatising way, but Harry's this source of purity and goodness. He actually likes everyone and gets along with the worst of them. He actually believes that getting a tip from Nick Grimshaw won't cost them anything. "Just relax, okay? What other option did we have?" Harry asks, fluffing up his hair.

Louis frowns. They really didn't have another option this time. Grimshaw's the only contact they could find working this side of the planet, and he gave them the perfect opportunity, too: an auction of parts and weapons, old and downgraded enough to fit right into their Firefly. "They're virtually stolen themselves, spoils of war. Kind of like that husband of yours," Nick told Harry over the video feed, causing Louis to grit his teeth and Harry to squeeze his knee. "Even if you got caught they wouldn't turn you in because the Alliance is supposed to be confiscating those type'a things."

It sounded too good to be true, and of course it will bite them in the arse, but Harry was so thrilled that Louis couldn't tell him to wait until they corroborated the intel. So now they're in business with Grimshaw's on-ground crew. Harry and Louis will be getting their hands on several select items, and the crew will smuggle them out in exchange for a cut. It sounded solid—at least enough to convince Louis. "Just don't tell them what we're really after, yeah? Or that we run with Perrie. Or… anything, really."

Harry rolls his eyes. "Don't you trust anyone?"

Louis doesn't need to think much. "Of course not. I'm still alive, aren't I?"

" _Lou_." Harry punches his arm. "You were supposed to say you trust _me_."

"Well, obviously I trust you, don't be ridiculous." Silly husband.

"Then trust me when I say…" He finally turns from the mirror to Louis and gives him a once-over. And then smacks his arse, making his jump. "Those pants look _fantastic_ on you."

Louis can't help but smile. They already have an invite to the auction, but the last thing they need is to stick out. Harry took it upon himself to find them fancy costumes, force Louis out of his favourite, _practical_ combat trousers, and come up with a cover story. He's so giddy about the whole thing, it's pretty irresistible. "And trust me when I say," Louis counters. "You still can't tie a tie for shit."

He walks up to him then and starts fixing his floral bowtie, so focused on the task he doesn't really notice it when Harry's hands land on his hips, until his thumbs tease the bare skin under his frilly dinner jacket. He glances up to see Harry beaming, so powerfully bright that Louis' fingers tangle and fuck up the knot yet again. "What?"

"Nothing," Harry says with a shrug, and then ducks down to kiss Louis' nose unexpectedly. "You're nice. Domestic."

Louis _definitely_ looks down to focus on Harry's tie. "Could've been nice and domestic all along. Made you dinner and rubbed your feet in our shuttle by the sea."

"You would _not_ have done _any_ of that," Harry insists, chuckling.

Louis tugs on the tie a little more aggressively than he should've. "Well, I would've asked you nicely to make me dinner and rub my feet and you would've been happy to do it."

"True. But instead I'm trying to… have an adventure." He stumbles over his words, in a way that makes Louis look up with an arched eyebrow, but Harry kisses him before he can accuse him of hiding something.

*

The plan is quite clever. They go in, pretend to be a married couple looking for parts for their fixer-upper ship, pretend to be able to afford anything, grab the loot, and then dump it in the _bin_. That's where the crew comes in—they had this brilliant plan to reprogram the bin disposal bots into dumping _their_ bin right into their laps, rather than out with the rest of the trash.

Louis and Harry pull off their part seamlessly, seeing as they actually are a married couple looking for parts for their fixer-upper ship. Harry looks like he's having the time of his life, though—charming everyone in sight and keeping Louis at arm's length. It's nice, maybe, to pretend that they're normal middle-class people who live in a farm where they juggle baby geese. (Letting Harry decide on their cover story might have been a stretch.) Maybe it's just nice to let Harry pretend that and enjoy himself while Louis actually looks for the goods.

The really fun part starts when they make a hasty retreat to the crew's ship and are greeted by four friendly people with big guns. That's just lovely, really.

"Um, Lou, does this usually happen?" Harry asks, panic in his voice as they raise their hands.

Louis curses every moment that led to this one, including the one where they left their weapons behind because they would've been confiscated at the auction, and _especially_ the one where Nick Grimshaw gave them a tip just to rip them off. "Sure, yeah," Louis says, because it really does, but he hopes he sounds regretful. He really did want Harry to have a nice, safe adventure. He really, really should've done something to prevent this. Fuck, he's supposed to protect Harry, not walk him right into an obvious trap.

Perrie would've started talking shit by now. Liam would've shot all four. Harry, amazingly, pouts at the double-crossers and whines, "Really, guys? Why can't we just be friends?"

He's so direct it actually seems to surprise the crew. They... don't shoot them. Louis stares at Harry, just as shocked. "It just seems like a shame to let you keep your share," Henchman Whatever says.

Harry sighs loudly. "This is my first job, did you know? You're making it real unpleasant."

"Um. Sorry, mate," Henchman says. He's still not shooting them.

Harry suddenly brushes the back of Louis' hand with his own, and Louis spouts the first thing that comes to mind. "Surely you only need one hostage."

"What?" Harry asks, actually looking at Louis instead of the people holding them at gunpoint.

"Why don't you let him go, so he doesn't have a completely unsatisfactory experience. He could run back to our crew and ask for money in exchange for my release. You win more." It sounds good to Louis.

Harry frowns at him. "Like fuck." He turns to the crew with a winning smile. "You should release him, he's got a much better chance of actually reaching our crew without getting caught or arrested or shot at. I'll be a nicer hostage, too."

Louis takes a tiny step towards the crew. "Please, you'll be a terrible hostage. You'll be so nice they'll turn themselves in."

Harry matches his step. "What! That's not true, I'll be just surly enough not to be a nuisance."

"Now that should've been in your wedding vows," Louis counters. Another step, indiscernible to the crew, who's watching their exchange with curiosity and confusion.

"Excuse _you_ , my vows were beautiful, Ed Sheeran wrote a song about them and it's a _hit_ on multiple planets." Harry actually looks slightly offended, which makes Louis want to ruffle his hair and kiss his cheek and sing to him Thinking Out Loud.

"Yeah, gorramn central planets, I bet. Never heard 'em myself."

Harry shoves Louis' chest, pushing him even closer to the guys but they don't jump. Louis steadies himself, getting ready. "That's because you were drunk at your own wedding," Harry accuses, raising his voice.

Louis fists his hands, as if to defend himself from Harry shoving him again. "Well, I'm not drunk— _now!_ "

They both whirl around and start throwing punches, catching the crew completely by surprise.

They're apprehended after barely a minute, but it's still kind of beautiful.

*

They're thrown into someone's quarters. Literally, physically _thrown_ into a cabin, where Louis lands painfully on the floor and Harry stumbles right into a wall and then face-plants next to him. Louis just sighs. This is probably going to end badly, but he's trying to keep his head. They weren't separated, so it could've been immeasurably worse.

Harry's on the panicky side—jumping to his feet clumsily and running to the door, that's locked from the outside. He looks at Louis, who gets up much more gracefully. "Nice one," Harry mumbles, and then seems to collect himself. "Are they going to kill us?"

"Nah," Louis says, mostly convinced. "They didn't even tie us up or torture us. Probably just gonna dump us in some distant quadrant and rob us blind."

Harry gasps, as if that's not comforting. "I don't wanna be _dumped_."

There's something unnerving about hearing Harry actually upset. Usually he's an unflappable bastard, calmer than ever when he's cheating death in a floating rust bucket. Now he's all frantic, and it makes Louis edgy. He doesn't do nervous well. "Don't I wish we were at a spa right now," he says flatly, sharper than he should.

Harry huffs and plants his hands on his hips. For a second Louis wants to take it back, because it feels like they might be heading towards a real fight rather than just trying to catch the backstabbers off-guard. There are no backstabbers here, just them and a lot of frustration. Louis doesn't particularly enjoy being held captive, but it's certainly not the first time. What he _hates_ is Harry being here, unsafe and inexperienced. Louis' used to saving Harry from small fires or being crushed by things or getting lost, not this. This was never supposed to happen. So he doesn't take it back. Even if they do fight, at least it'll distract Louis from crippling guilt and helplessness.

Harry steps closer to him. "Well excuse me for wanting us to have a nice adventure."

"But _why_?" Louis spits, waving his hands. Louis loves adventures, but with Harry that mostly means calculated pranks on others and being dumb. He likes how simple and calm things can be with Harry, in a way they never are with Perrie or anyone else. _This_ isn't nice at all. "You're the one who wanted a holiday in the first place!"

"I didn't—I _did_ , but I also—I think I thought—"

"H, just spit it out," Louis cuts him off, less patient than usual.

Harry narrows his eyes. "I wanted to show you I can do it."

Louis comes up short. "Do what? Be a hostage?"

"No, you arsehole," Harry snaps. "You said that you—wanted to start a family, and stuff, that you wanted the future I wanted, so I was trying to prove that I can, like." He hesitates, looking away. "Be a good partner in the present."

It's like his chest collapses. He doesn't even know what to think, and Harry—Harry's just _standing there_ , like he didn't say the stupidest fucking—he walks right up to Harry and punches his shoulder, annoyance and fondness warring in his brain. "You didn't need to put yourself in danger to prove a single fucking thing to me, you complete knob!"

Harry doesn't have the heart to punch him back, he kind of gently pushes him away. He looks right angry when he replies, however. "Well I _thought_ we were bonding, but I guess we can't function without the crew having our backs. Good thing to prove, right?"

Louis just. Hurts a little. And is so pissed off he could scream. " _Harry Styles_ , I can't function without _you_!" he yells, slapping Harry's stupidly broad chest and glaring at his stupid wide green eyes. "And we don't need to have thrilling adventures all day every day for us to _bond_ , Christ! I'm so far up your arse even Nick Grimshaw knows to take advantage of it!"

Harry grabs at his wrists, misses and ends up holding Louis' shoulders. His eyes are still wide and going from angry to confused to… fond. It cracks Louis' annoyance right away. "Babe," he says, startlingly quiet after the shouting match. "You're not just saying that?"

Louis throws his arms out. "Does it look like I wanted to be here? Instead of having my feet rubbed?"

" _Babe_ ," Harry repeats, biting his plush bottom lip. "I'll rub your feet," he hedges. He's being coy and it's working.

Louis rolls his eyes, fight leaving him just as abruptly as it took over. Knowing they're here because of a dumb Harry thing is slightly better than them being here because of an overconfident Louis thing. "Looks like you'll have a lot of time to rub my feet on a distant planet."

"Well." Suddenly, Harry straightens up to his full height, something assertive radiating out of him. Louis crooks an eyebrow when Harry whips off his bowtie without even strangling himself. "Fuck that shit. They're not just dumping us in space."

Louis tries _so_ hard not to smile. "They're not?"

"No, Lewis. We're escaping," Harry notifies him. Louis really wants to kiss him.

"How are we doing that?" he asks. He could come up with a plan if he actually gave it some thought, but it's hard to look away from Harry when he seems so determined and magnetic. It's part of what landed them here. Actually, it's part of what landed them in this marriage.

He's not sure if Harry appreciates Louis being kind of distracted by his existence, but it doesn't seem to dampen his confidence. "Well, the ship won't take off until the goods get here, and the bins won't be collected for… thirteen minutes? Get us out of this room and I'll get us out of this ship."

Louis isn't going to lie. "You're turning me on."

"Keep it in your pants, Tommo, c'mon. What do we do?" Harry asks, but he's totally smiling at Louis.

The thing is that Harry isn't dumb. He's really clever, and carefree and lovely and _sharp_. He's perfect for Louis, complements him in ways Louis doesn't want to think too hard about because—Harry _completing_ him means that there's something missing when he's—if he ever does end up alone. That's just terrifying, but what's even more terrifying is Harry thinking Louis needs anything more than what he has. He hates needing things in general, but as far as "things" go, Harry's pretty dependable. Here he is now, talking about busting out of a hostile vessel after leaving his own bridge exactly three times since becoming the pilot of One Direction.

So yeah, whatever, made for each other, soulmates in space, Harry being _competent_ and Louis being hopelessly riled up by it. It's time to get them out of here. He might, sort of have a plan.

He rips open his dinner jacket and shucks it off his shoulder, making Harry audibly gulp. "Lou, I—it's not safe here."

Louis rolls his eyes and reaches around to his now-exposed belt. He grabs what he's looking for and draws so fast Harry recoils. "Got you something."

Harry opens and closes his mouth a few times, looking from Louis' face to the object in his hand and back again. His eyes are a bit glazed when he says, "Is that what I think it is?"

"You know it is." Louis starts peeling the banana slowly with his teeth. Harry _gulps_. "Smells so good, don't you think?"

Harry's nostrils flare. His eyes are dark and longing, which Louis thinks is kind of hilarious as he licks up the banana's length and moans at the sweetness. Harry's proper obsessed with fruit from Earth that was, especially this one, to the point where Louis isn't sure what's teasing him more, the banana or Louis' mouth on it. Slower than usual, Harry asks, "Did you steal it for me?"

The truth is he just saw them on the buffet table when he was canvassing the place, but he's trying to get Harry somewhere. Also, it's not like he hasn't stolen bananas for Harry before. Bananas and lube are kind of his speciality, outside of... smuggling everything else. So he says, "Yeah. I put you first, see?"

It actually works on Harry, always does. He's such a sucker for lines. Mid-lick, Harry advances on him and grabs the banana carefully. Before his very eyes, Harry shoves half of the thing right into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks like he's trying to prove a point. Louis might be getting turned on for real just watching; Harry's soft, full lips on the banana, red from the lipstick he used when they gussied up for the auction.

Harry bites down, swallows his considerable mouthful, and then unceremoniously tosses the banana to the ground. Louis looks at the poor peel in shock, then back up to his husband, who's a lot closer now. Louis gives himself a mental pat on the back. He really, really wants to kiss Harry. "Catch me."

"Huh?" Harry asks but, bless him, his arms are already opening.

Louis launches himself at him, his legs naturally locking around Harry's waist and his arms wrapped around his neck. His momentum shoved Harry back, so he knocks into the desk and topples a lamp over loudly. All still part of the plan. Louis buries both of his hands in Harry's hair and tugs, taking a moment just to _look_ at him, as if he could ever convey how much he loves this man. It only seems to intensify by Harry holding him up with no trouble at all, both hands cheekily on Louis' bum.

When Louis finally kisses him, it's a lot gentler than either of them expected. What Harry said—or tried to do—is slowly sinking in. How much he tried to give Louis what he thought he wanted. It only makes Louis kiss him slower, lick the stickiness off his lips and breathe him in. Harry sighs a little, his hands tightening on him, but he lets him take it at his own pace. His mouth opens almost on its own accord, and their tongues meet slickly, making tingles rush through Louis.

So Harry's a bit surprised when Louis yanks hard on his hair and bites on his bottom lip. Which is to say Harry moans _loudly_ and falls back again, shoving the desk and making it clatter back against the metal wall. It's not enough. Louis starts biting Harry's neck, planting sucking kisses right on his pulse point. "Like this, baby?" he asks, too loudly in the small room but not loud enough, not yet. "Like holding me while I decide what to do with you?"

Harry gasps, throwing his head back so Louis can keep sucking on his skin. Still not good enough. Louis tightens his thighs all at once so he's squeezing around Harry and they're touching everywhere: their chests flush, their foreheads knocking softly together and their lips attached again. It's much fiercer this time, Louis practically fucking Harry's mouth with his tongue and propelling forward more and more until Harry stumbles past the desk and rams into the door. Much better. "Words, sweetheart," Louis says, right in his ear. "Tell me how you feel."

Harry's eyelashes flutter and he's smiling now, kind of dazed. He slides his arms right under Louis' bum and then hoists him up, so strong and tall and amazing. "Good. Kinda scared but—don't really need much else."

Louis rolls his eyes. "That's not very sexy, is it?"

"Sorry," Harry says, bit embarrassed but still cheerful. " _You're_ sexy, I love holding you like this. Wanna fuck you right against the wall."

Louis' toes curl in his boots and he finds himself rubbing his hips a little against Harry's stomach. "Show me then," he dares, biting down sharply on Harry's ear.

Harry grunts and moves surprisingly fast. For a moment Louis braces himself to crash into the wall, but Harry pins him there gently and just presses their bodies together, close close and—" _Yeah_ baby, there you go," he moans loudly, wiggling a little to grind against Harry.

Finally, it happens.

A guard unlocks their door and slides it open, staring right at Louis' face, or Harry's back. She looks at them in utter shock while Harry staggers back from the wall, Louis still held securely. Louis uses this magical moment to lean up and whisper, "Spin 'round fast."

Harry does ask why but he doesn't wait for an answer before he just does it, turning right as Louis stretches out his leg. There's a _slight_ hiccup in the plan when Louis realises he isn't positioned high enough to kick her straight in the face, but it only allows for something even more magical to happen. The crewmember actually slips on the banana peel and _falls_ , knocking herself out.

Louis immediately jumps from Harry's arms and grabs her weapons, spinning them on his fingers and then tucking them in his belt. He can't help but sigh happily, feels _complete_ with two pieces on him. Also, his plan's fucking ace. Harry should leave all the planning to him, present and future.

He's extremely glad for the guns when he notes Harry's serial killer eyes. "Louis Tomlinson," he drawls, pouting. "Did you do all that on purpose?"

Louis grins. "You said get us out of the room."

It's less funny to Harry. "You made me _hard_ ," he whines, pointing down at his thigh.

Louis' throat feels kind of dry when he looks. He's not hard himself, but things might have gone hotter and heavier than he'd expected. "I'm sorry, darling, you can fuck me against the wall of our safe shuttle, alright?"

It takes a seriously intense Zen moment for Harry to refocus. By the time he snaps out of it, he adjusts himself in his tight trousers and then grabs Louis' hand and tugs him out of the cabin. It's not really a power move, seeing as he ends up just lacing their fingers together and smiling to himself. Louis likes being cute, though. This could've gone really, extremely differently.

There's a short pause when they're out of the cabin, where Harry locks the door behind them and then just looks around. It seems like he's actually sniffing the air. Louis' never been on this type of ship, but Harry obviously has. Once he decides on a direction, he leads Louis along quickly and confidently and _now_ he's getting hard, great. "Do you even know where we're going?" Louis whispers.

Harry nods quickly, clinging to the wall like he's trying to be sneaky. "'Course. I'm a leaf in the wind."

Louis has no idea what that means, but he loves Harry so much for it. "Do you know how much I love you?"

Harry just pauses mid-stride and backs Louis up against the wall, right in the extremely exposed hull. Louis looks up at him with his heart pounding, wants to yell at him that this is extremely dangerous, but Harry kisses him before he can, fierce and real and full of emotion. It's heart-stopping, and turns into heartbreaking when Harry pulls back to whisper, "I'm sorry I put us in danger for no reason."

"I'm not," Louis whispers quickly, dropping pecks to his lips. "Crime is fun and you're fun, so. I'm having fun with my husband. Who I wanna spend the rest of my life with, starting five years ago."

Harry presses their foreheads together and kisses him again. "So we're not just..." It sounds like it pains him to continue, but he does. "Passing the time 'till the future?"

Louis would roll his eyes if they were open. "We're _looking forward_ to the future, but this is exciting enough. Yesterday was exciting enough. Every day is exciting enough, okay? You're my backup."

"You're my backup," Harry completes. "Watch how I soar."

Louis tries to think of something even sappier to say, but before he can he hears a sound and pushes Harry back instinctively. A crewmember, one of the men, is talking on the radio, so Louis can hear it loud and clear as he approaches them from the corridor. He shoves Harry to the wall and stands right by the entrance, silent and quick.

The very second the guy reaches the entryway, Louis swings his arm and hits his crotch squarely, then slams a hand over his mouth to muffle his pained scream. He kicks at his hand so the radio goes flying, and then jumps around to stand behind him. The guy is crouching to protect himself and seems to be too shocked to try and fight back, so Louis very easily wraps an arm around his throat and squeezes gently, until he passes out.

The whole thing takes three minutes tops and not the most effort he's ever put in, so Harry's reaction feels a bit disproportionate. He grabs him and kisses him again, hard, pressing him close. "I'm not condoning violence," he insists, even while slipping a leg between Louis' and rubbing up against his thigh. "I'm just condoning you doing things."

Louis ruts against him for just a moment. "Can we get to the part where you give me a foot massage then?"

"Can you not interrupt my sneaking?" Harry counters, biting Louis' neck until he gasps.

"Come _on_ ," he says, more urgent than before. "I wanna fuck and then I want a foot massage and neither will happen if we keep making out instead of escaping."

As soon as Harry realises what's in it for him, he leaps from Louis' arms, and almost stumbles on top of the unconscious henchman. He regroups before Louis can laugh at him and walks right on.

By the time Harry stops outside of a room, Louis' taken care of another crewmember, and Harry's continuously making murderous types of noises, mumbling under his breath, "If you could just shoot them instead of kicking them with your _legs_." Louis kicks extra athletically. And happily.

Louis stays on-guard while Harry takes out a screwdriver from his pocket, as you do, and starts working on the control panel keeping the door locked. In ten startlingly arousing seconds he's got it open to reveal—not the outside world, but an engine room.

"Babe?" Louis asks, looking around hesitantly. There are live wires and buzzing noises everywhere, and Louis feels more intimidated than he does facing five armed thieves on horseback. Their engine room is extremely well-kept compared to this; Niall keeps it cosy yet sterile and workable. Even his weirdly large collection of shoes is neat. "Why are we here?"

By the time he stops inspecting the place Harry's not only stepped inside, but is crouching by the whirling machine and is _pulling something out_. What the fuck. Harry's the epitome of innocence when he tugs something out of its socket with his strong, muscular arms, and says, "I said we were getting a catalyser. I'm investing in our _home_."

Louis decides then and there he's never leaving this man. They're their own crew, plain and simple. They're the dream team. He's especially committed to this when Harry adds, "And now they won't be able to escape when the goods get here, along with a very upset auction managing person who'll get an anonymous tip."

As they bust their way out, Louis honestly thinks he could lose everything but still be free because no one could take Harry from him. He loves him so much he could _cry_.

He manages to stifle that urge, somewhere between stealing a motorcycle for Harry and being bounced on Harry's cock.

It's a really good bonding experience, all in all. Second honeymoon via near death experience. Nothing too unusual for them.

* * *

 

"That's the spot," Louis moans, stretching out on the bed.

"Yeah? Right there?" Harry asks, trying not to smirk as he works his fingers deeper.

Louis nods furiously, wild hair flying on the pillow. "Mm, so good to me."

Harry giggles, shifting a little. "Stop that. Or I'll stop this."

"Nooo, c'mon, you _promised_ ," Louis whines, throwing his other leg on Harry's lap. Harry just sighs and starts rubbing his other foot, somehow stifling the urge to munch on his dainty ankle and toes. It's really hard being married to Louis sometimes. "I'll stop. I don't even appreciate this at all."

Harry's doubtful, but at least the lack of pornographic moans enables him to focus. "Remember how you kicked that engineer in the face?" he asks, rubbing into the arch of Louis' foot with the space lube. It's basically tricked-out massage oil when it doesn't go into any hole, isn't it? Louis seems to think so. He looks so happy and relaxed, melting into the mattress. It's _extremely_ hard not to just ravish him, even though Harry fucked him just an hour ago.

"Yes, I was there," Louis says, sounding pleasantly drowsy. "Remember when you stole a part just to teach them a lesson?"

Harry grins to himself and wraps both hands around one foot, digging his thumbs in and making Louis' leg kick a little. "Yup. Pretty adventurous, wouldn't you say?"

"Very," Louis agrees. "But I thought we agreed that every day is an adventure as long as we're together."

" _Ugh, that's gross,_ " Perrie grumps over the intercom, which is apparently on. Again.

Harry stills for a moment, wondering exactly how long that lamp has been knocked over the button, when _Niall_ cuts in. " _No, it's cute. Like a bedtime story._ "

" _What the fuck kind of bedtime stories were you told as a child?_ " Liam asks, scandalised.

" _Extremely X-rated ones, apparently,_ " Zayn adds.

"Said the companion," Louis huffs, kicking Harry's chest weakly because Harry's too busy laughing to keep rubbing his feet.

" _Fuck off, Tommo_ ," Zayn sputters, and suddenly Harry remembers Zayn's shuttle isn't even connected to the main intercom. _Extremely_ interesting.

Perrie coughs loudly. " _If Niall's satisfied with the story, I suggest we all try and get some sleep. You know I don't like an empty cargo bay._ "

"Of course, Captain. Lots of crime to do tomorrow," Louis agrees readily, but he cracked open one of his eyes and he's watching Harry kind of curiously.

Without really thinking about it, Harry bends down and peppers Louis' foot with kisses. He gets kicked in the face, but it's totally worth it for the embarrassing squeal Louis lets out for the entire crew to hear. As if Harry cares that Louis has a _captain_. He's more loyal to Harry than he is to Perrie, and Harry knows how much that means, and Harry doesn't ever want to put it to the test because he knows he's going to open a space B &B with Louis. It'll only take one gunfight. Or three. Five, tops.

"You know I wanna be the one to hold you when you sleep," Harry sings randomly, just to see Louis fight back a smile. And also to express his feelings.

Louis slides his legs off of Harry and spreads his arms wide. "I just want it to be you and I forever," Louis continues, completely _not_ making Harry's heart leap to his throat.

Harry face-plants into Louis' chest and holds him tight, happier than ever despite having been duped, threatened with a weapon, held captive, and forced into a daring escape all in one day. "I know you wanna leave so come on baby, be with me so happily."

" _Um, not to alarm anyone, but can someone maybe come to the engine room?_ " Niall says, completely destroying the sappy moment. " _We're a bit, well. On fire now._ "

Harry's eyes snap open and he and Louis exchange a long look. And then leap to their feet.

What's life without a few life-threatening adventures, anyway? They could've been juggling  _geese_.

**end**

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! And huge, huge thanks to J and J for betaing and brit-picking and helping me develop space lube. ♡


End file.
